


Fisticuffs

by BigDamnReader



Series: Good Ol' Pugilism [1]
Category: Firefly
Genre: AU, Bare knuckle fighting, Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigDamnReader/pseuds/BigDamnReader
Summary: AU. As a child, Simon joined a Browncoat fighting gym, unbeknownst to everyone, including River. Now on Serenity, the elder Tam's experiences have changed because of it.Chapter 8: The escape is well under way but will the crew of Serenity make it?





	1. Jaynestown

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an idea I've had for a little while and it festered from the very first episode. After re-watching the series for a minimum of 100 times and reading possibly 99% of all firefly  
> fanfictions, I have decided to add my tuppence to the murky world of wonderful writing. My idea?
> 
> Simon is an ace bare knuckle fighter - but nobody, not even River, knows.
> 
> As a martial artist myself, I know that I find it more respectful to trade blows within inches of your opponent than to stand at a distance and fire a gun at them. In my mind, Simon does too. So, here is my first Firefly fanfic, an AU that I hope you enjoy and I hope you like it and leave comments below.
> 
> Onwards dear Browncoats! To the story we go!

Jaynestown AU

After being dismissed by Kaylee in the most obvious fashion and having his head repeat Tchaikovsky's greatest pieces as a reward for drinking what felt like forty tons of muddlers milk, the last thing Simon was ready for was a gruff voice piercing his ears.

"Heard tell you run with Jayne Cobb." 

Wo de ma what had he done to be lumped with the man ape this early in the morning? Feeling slightly bewildered at the strange request and feeling his bad mood flare slightly, he replied with a polite, core-like 'excuse me' that was about as useful as a colander collecting rain. 

"You going to take me to that dirty, low-down shingle of a man?" Came the impatient, harsh tone that still irritated his pounding head. 

"Listen, uh, sir... I don't know who..." Simon suddenly became aware of the mangy individual lunging towards him, obviously aiming to cause him some harm (and why not? Obviously, on the rim, it's perfectly fine to beat stressed out,paranoid, medical professionals). Reacting instinctively, Simon twisted in his chair, causing his corpse like assailant to flail and stumble after picking him up. Moving quickly, Simon threw his left leg back, sweeping the man's right leg and forcing him to the floor. Like lightning, the man was up again, throwing heavy punches that didn't match his malnourished frame; Simon admitted to himself that he hadn't expected him to get up that quick nor be able to throw such strong punches - one of which caught him on his chin whilst he was recovering from blocking another wild swing to his face. 

He fell back onto the table -his back yelling out in pain- but was given no respite as the man came at him again, fury alight in his eyes and anger evident in his mad swings that kept coming. Leaning on his back (so he was half prostrate on the table), Simon curled his legs to his chest before bucking them forth, straight into his opponents undefended chest, and wincing at the loud cracking sound that it emitted. He might be fighting but he was still a doctor. Wasting no time however, Simon went after his opponent with well calculated punches and knees to vulnerable areas and all to soon, his scar faced opponent was on his knees panting in pain. 

"What is wrong with-I don't even know you! On that note who are you?" Simon attempted the high road of not bragging but couldn't help showing his frustration. Receiving silence from the downed man he tried again. "Look, I didn't want to hurt you but you kind of just barged in here and tried to attack me. Why do you even want Jayne anyway?" Silence again.

Sighing in disappointment, Simon turned his back briefly to pick up his chair but was surprised by the sound of a gun cocking. Slowly turning, he caught sight of a shotgun being held in his direction; he gulped audibly and raised his arms in surrender. 

"My name, you panty-waist idjit, is Stitch and I'm Jaynes ol' partner. That's right! So when I says tell me where he is, I expect you to do so. Dong ma?" Simon had little time to take in the new information before the butt of the gun was swung into his face, causing him to drop to his knees with a grunt. He felt the cold barrel rest on his perspiring head. "So, one last time, where is Cobb?" Shaking his head to clear the double vision that added itself to his problems, Simon glanced up gingerly at Stitch (and what kind of name was Stitch) and assessed his situation. Faintly, he could hear a crowd of people chanting. He strained his ears in an attempt to discern what was being shouted.

JAYNE! JAYNE! JAYNE!

Oh dear. Knowing he had only seconds, Simon tightly grasped the barrel of the shotgun, jumped off his knees and slammed both his feet into Stitch's shins, forcing the man to fall on top of him and into his waiting elbow. Stitch slumped; he was out cold. Pushing the foully odoured body off of him, Simon stood up slowly, brushing himself off and turning to face the stunned bar keep. Laughing nervously, Simin said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Drunks eh?"

He stumbled out of the bar and into the waiting crowd, placing himself to a sulking Kaylee and watching in disbelief as the muddlers became riled at what was possibly the worst speech ever given in the history of the 'verse. Later that night, after Kaylee had forgiven him, she asked where the cuts in his face and hands had come from. Stuttering slightly, he told her that they had obviously came from the night before. For some reason, this caused her to giggle.


	2. Beginnings

When Simon was ten, Stephan Johnson had pushed him down for the twelfth time that week and given him a rather vicious kick to the stomach. Knowing his father's thoughts on the matter, he said nothing to the prestigious school nor to his mother or father; when he had first told his father, the elder Tam had simply informed his son that, no, they couldn't get Johnson punished because his father was one of Gabriel's biggest patrons. Unfortunately for ten year old Simon Tam, this spelt many more months of unprovoked bullying. 

So it was that when Simon was ten, Stephan Johnson had pushed him down for the twelfth time that week. It was after the twelfth time that week that Simon decided not to put up with it. Clenching his small, skinny fists and feeling roaring anger and adrenaline surge through him like a golden bullet, Simon pounced to his feet and ran at Stephan with all his tiny might. When he woke up in the nurses office with a large bruise on his face, she told him to look where he was going next time. With the large intellect that made him a target, Simon realised that going after the bane of his existence at that moment was futile and so drew up an alternate plan of attack. After discarding the bombs, poison darts, dinosaurs and military ambushed that made up plans A-W, he finally came up with the greatest course of action: He would learn to fight. 

The walk from school (walk because his father drilled into him that he must act like an adult) took him past an uncommon curiosity for the rich, alliance neighbourhood his house resided in. It was effectively a giant middle finger to the alliance and, despite his family's aligence, it made Simon feel hopeful; and so it was that after the twelfth time Stephan Johnson had pushed him down in a week, Simon gingerly crossed the threshold of a Browncoat fighting gym. It was blatenly obvious he did not belong and he cowered at the many fierce glares thrown his way. With his well cut waistcoat and cleanly pressed trousers, his well groomed hair and clean skin, he practically screamed Alliance and it made many of the patrons feel sick. A small group broke off and, like vultures, made their way towards him with ear splitting grins, cracking their knuckles and chuckling at the pure terror stricken expression that came upon the boy's face. They encircled him, enjoying the audible gulp that resounded throughout the now silent gym. "You lost, Purplebelly?" taunted one with foul breath and a revolting scar.

"Must be." Replied another from behind him.

"How sad! A little boy, all alone with the big, bad, browncoats." Voiced a third.

Simon was now shaking like a leaf and opened his mouth in a futile attempt to escape. "N-n-no. I-I mean I-I-I'm not lost. I-I'll just g-g-go now."

Laughing maliciously, the group closed in, fully trapping the petrified child, intending to give him a special bit of education.

"ENOUGH!" 

Authoritive, the voice seemed to bespell the men for all stopped immediately and turned, as one, to face Simon's samaritan. An older man with an angled beard streaked with grey, he did not cut a powerful figure and yet it seemed to Simon that all were revered of him. He moved with purpose, gliding across the floor and speaking in harsh mandarin that sent the pack fleeing to the corners of the room. Simon breathed a quiet sigh of relief before stiffening at the approaching form. Upon reaching Simon, he knelt down and looked him directly in the eye. Silence reigned for a minute and it appeared the the world waited for the man to resume his command. "What are you here for, child?"

The soft words snapped Simon out of his trance and he gazed fearfully at the man before him; would he be like the others? Yet he had saved Simon and his father had taught him that those that help you deserve to be repaid. Drawing in every ounce of courage his body could hold, he replied in a small tone that bellied his fear. " Sir, I mean no disrespect, sir, but, well, I'd.. Sir you have to understand... It's just..." He trailed off at the soft, tinkering laugh of the man before him. With a gentle smile that promised understanding, he stood swiftly and gestured for Simon to follow him into a back room that contained a small, deplapidated fighting ring and various pieces of kit aimed at different types of attacks. 

"You want to learn to fight don't you? Probably because you're being bullied eh? Oh, don't look so suprised lad. I could sense it as soon as you stepped in with those shiny shoes of yours. Hell, I wouldn't be doing this if you hadn't spoke to those guys but I've seen it kid. You've got guts yet for some reason, you won't use them. I want to find out why and so I'm gonna need your help dong ma? Now, copy what I do." And with that, the man dropped into a relaxed stance, standing to the left of Simon- who took a moment to process what he had just been told. Cautiously, he replicated the man before him. "Not like that boy, like this," and here the man adjusted his legs, bending them more and raising his fists higher. "That's it! Good, good. Oh, by the way, names Sam Langford." 

With that began a rigorous training regime that Simon enjoyed every minute of, no matter the difficulty. In a matter of weeks he had gained the respect of the other fighters with his ability, determination and his desire to understand them. Unlike the normal Alliance children, Simon wanted to know about both sides of the war and his open mindedness brushed off some of the harshness of the former soldiers. It was his secret; he told his father that he stayed behind for additional classes at school- much to the man's admiration- and (reluctantly) allowed Stephan Johnson to bully him every day. However, after being pushed for the eleventh time that week, it was Stephan that ended up in the nurses office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Long time no see. So here's the next chapter and I really hope you enjoy it and remember to comment about what you like/dislike e.c.t. If any one had any suggestions about this story, feel free to comment or message them- I'm open to suggestions.


	3. Confrontation

"Oi! Wipe that look of your face. You'll be fine."

Smike's well intentioned encouragement fell rather short for an agitated fourteen year old Simon. Sam had decided that Simon was ready to fight other people in a 'completely legit, in no way illegal, wipe that smug look off that pale face you little git' competition. He had already wrote his will; River got everything.

After proving himself a dedicated student, the men who had cornered him maliciously on his first day had voluntarily apologised (an ability most core world boys hadn't yet mastered) and offered to teach the boy different methods of fighting; Each were more impressed than the last. After weeks, then months, then eventually years of training, practising, progressing, his body had transformed from a skinny, frail skeleton into a lithe, muscular form that caused the bullies at school to doubt their ability. Smike was now a close friend to the lonely boy, becoming his greatest supporter (after Sam of course).

"I'll be fine in the same way you are when your wife shouts at you fine, or I'll be fine as in there will be part of me left to scrape off that charming concrete floor out there?" He sighed. Then yelped as Smike smacked the back of his head.

"Enough of that cheek," Smike leaned forward with a wide grin. "I'll be there with a dust pan and brush after the fight."

Great.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now

"Doc, just stay out of the way. I don't want to scrape you off the floor." Mal's clipped tone grated Simon; he hadn't slept for nearly two days due to River having a massive breakdown over a piece of cheese.

"Then why," he started, stopping Mal in his tracks. "Why are you bringing me on this job?"

"Cause I'm the Captain and I say so. Plus, I need you there in case anything goes wrong."

"Will it?" Simon asked apprehensively

"What?"

"Go wrong?"

Mal sighed in obvious annoyance before turning on his heel and marching out, gesturing for the young doctor to go with him. Following the Captain with great reluctance, he dragged himself to the cargo bay and, looking at the people gathered there, threw himself down on the only available seat left in the mule. It was right next to a leering Jayne. Who was staring at him. Whilst cleaning Binky.

Great.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From his small room next to the fighting arena, Simon could hear the ravenous crowd roaring with anticipation as the last fight finished, giving way to the final fight of the night. His.

Smike had left shortly before hand to go inform the announcer that Simon 'The Intruder' Tam was ready to 'kick the ass of the poor sod who shat himself into the ring'. The Intruder - his nickname at Ripper's Gym- was given to him indirectly by Sam. After beating a slightly older sparring partner, his instructor heard the boy have a verbal lash at Simon, reminding him that he was an intruder into the browncoats and that his place was far below them. Seeing that his young protégé was downhearted by the cutting words, he heavily sat himself down and began a rare moment of emotion.

"Don't you listen to that dumb child-ape boy. You've got real talent. Why," he broke off chuckling. "The only intruding your doing is into the different fighting styles and into your opponents space."  
And that was that. Everyone at the gym started calling him Intruder and now was his time to prove it. Standing up and shaking himself off, he moved gingerly towards the door, ears picking up a change in the announcers ton over the loudspeakers.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Are you ready for final fight of tonight? It promises to be a real treat! So everybody here tonight, clap your hands, stamp your feet, yell at the top of your lungs for Simon 'The Intruder' Tam!"

The door before him opened and the cheers of the crowd flooded in.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now

Simon awoke from a pleasant daydream involving Kaylee rather suddenly when Jayne pushed him out of the mule. Pushing himself off the ground, he glared at the mercenary "Wha.. Why would you even do that? Did something go wrong in your birth that prevents any shred of politeness?" Jayne just walked off laughing.

Picking himself off and glaring at Mal when he chuckled, Simon followed the Captain, Zoe and Jayne into the garishly illuminated bar across the street. Even from all the way on the other side of the road he could he the patrons inside the bar yelling and shouting at something. Simon was fairly certain that he was leaving deep gouges into the surface of the ground with how much he was dragging his feet. On the other hand, Jayne appeared to be straining at his leash in an attempt to get into the building as fast as humanely possible.

As they approached, a flailing figure smashed through the grimy glass that offered any lookers literally no insight to what was going on inside the place. Pulling himself up and shaking himself off, the man tipped his hat at the group before staggering off to find some other establishment he wouldn't be tossed out off. Simon grimaced as he passed over the broken shards of glass that littered the deplapidated porch that led to the door. Well, what was left of it anyway. Drawing closer, Mal found himself having to jerk back his arm as the door flew open as another body went crashing through it. The wave of noise that overcame them was almost like a solid punch to the gut.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guy was huge. Surely, thought Simon in fear, eyes widening as 'Skull Crusher' stepped into the area, that guy is an actual mountain that transformed into a person. Sam and Smike laughed at his petrified expression, offered him final words of encouragement and turned him to face his opponent. How on Earth-that-was could this hulk of solid mass be only a year older than him. The guy had almost a full beard for crying out loud!

Blowing out a shaky breath, Simon sunk into his preferred stance: an adapted Fighting Irish style. His feet were evenly spaced, one behind the other, his torso leaned back slightly and his left arm held out in front of him (but not so that his arm was stretched out the whole way) and his right fist parallel to his elbow. His left foot was turned in slightly whilst neither of his feet were wide apart and he swayed slightly to disguise his attacks- the perfect mix of Karate, Boxing and old fashioned pugilism. His opponent laughed loudly at the apparent absurdity of it before dropping heavily into a sloppy stance, right shoulder protruding and his neck stuck out like a confused chicken. Both his fists were held loosely in front of him.

Simon shook himself and went through the rules again. You couldn't hit the groin, gouge the eyes, scrape with nails, bite (Simon had seen the guy's injury and it made him sick for a few days) or spit at the opponents eyes. Both fighters could use any parts of the body to attack and were permitted to grapple and take down. Simon shook himself again; he knew what to do. He could do it.

Glancing to his left, he caught sight of the judge that would decide the winner (provided that neither one got knocked out or killed). He were ex-fighters and knew what he was doing so Simon didn't have to worry on that front. Everything was ready. Chuckling slightly, Simon remembered that his father believed that he was at school, attending an aid class for advanced science. Christ what a difference this place was.

As the bell rang, Simon shifted forwards.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now

After pushing and forcing their way through the electric crowd - the local hoopball team was playing at the decider for the inter-planetery competition- all four of them managed to crowd their themselves into a small, beer stained booth at the back. Their client, a giant, bear like man, called Chris, dropped down opposite them, his thuggish companions standing at the end of the booth. After analysing one another for a minute, Mal and Chris leaned together and started an intense negotiation about the supplies Chris wanted off world. All perfectly legal of course.

Simon leaned back as the talk dragged on, neither side wanting to give leeway. Blowing out air in boredom, Simon silently asked Zoe if he could go get a drink. At her slight nod, he straightened up, ignoring the the suspicious glares of the men, and slowly made his way through the pulsing crowd until he reached the bar five minutes later. He ordered a scotch on the rocks but was given what seemed to be brown sludge in a dirty glass. As he took a sip, a hand crashing onto his back caused him to spit it all out. Turning his head to glare at the offending figure that shouldered his way next to him, Simon's bad mood turned sour when the man just ignored him and ordered a drink.

"Excuse me, but do you mind not-"

"What?" The loud voice interrupted him

"I don't intend to insult your amenity but-"

"What youse calling me?"

"Calling you? No I didn't-" Simon protested weakly but the man's incredible volume began to attract attention. As the crowd began to chant and jeer, the alcohol filled mind of the man opposite kicked and punched itself into overdrive, the man swung his fist.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skull Crusher swung his arm with the strength of ten men but growled as he missed Simon's chin once again as the younger boy ducked deftly out of the way. Within twenty seconds of the fight starting, the massive boy-man had failed to hit Simon twelve times, finding himself unable to get in close due to the length of Simon's guard, but unable to hit him with anything because of the smaller boys speed. Adrenaline, exaggerated by anger and annoyance, surged through Skull Crusher and he drove himself furiously at Simon, managing to get his arms around him.  
Luckily for Simon, the man was inexperienced and fell victim to Simon's many well placed blows, all of them striking him in the liver and solar plexus, whilst Simon danced around the grapple. Seeing the perfect opportunity, Simon thrust out his right leg and whipped it back, causing the man to fly through the air and smash onto the concrete floor. Shouts and yells erupted louder than before and the crowd strained against the barricade, cheering in hysteria as the fight got even better.

The two men wrestled, Simon striking simultaneously with almost supernatural precision. As the mob around them became more and more frenzied, Simon found himself behind Skull Crusher and took his chance. Sliding his arms forward, he got his opponent in a rear neck choke and squeezed tight, only stopping when his felt a hand tapping him in panic. Taking a second to make sure that the other boy was okay, Simon jumped into the air with bliss, chest heaving and gleaming with sweat.

Around him, the crowd became even louder.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now

The crowd fell silent.

"Where'd that come from?"

The strange voice in the crowd snapped Simon back into reality and he looked up from the unconscious body on the floor to find every pair of eyes staring at him with wide eyes. Mal surged forward, snatched his shoulder and marched him out the door, Zoe and Jayne following silently behind. He was frog marched towards the mule, an awkward silence filling the space around them. Reaching the mule, Mal flung him in it.

"What the hell was that?" Before he could answer, the Captain continued, ploughing over Simon's feeble attempt at an explanation. "You're a lucky hūdãn that we closed up that deal, boy. Now you gonna tell me how it is you managed to plant that man's pi gu on the floor?"

"I guess I just picked it up from you guys. I've seen you enough."

They sped away in stunned silence; he couldn't tell if they believed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things to say about this one. 
> 
> A) Apologies for the long wait - I've been busy so I'm sorry about that,  
> B) The fighting style described is the same one that I use during controlled fights (I attended a school of martial arts) and it has benefits and problems- just like all stances- but it still works,  
> C) Hope you enjoy, leave kudos and comment.


	4. Monetry troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set five weeks after the previous chapter

After thoroughly (but not really) convincing Mal, Jayne and Zoe, they hadn't said anything else about that evening in the bar for which he was grateful; he didn't really want River knowing about him. She would probably want to play fight and the last thing he wanted to do was wrestle with the girl that thought they should of got married during the first Saffron encounter. That would just be too much for his already fragile nerves.

At the moment they were all waiting, bored, as the final few hours before planetfall trudged by, fell over, then slowed down even more. After being crammed together for two weeks, sitting with cargo that probably wouldn't even generate that much profit, they had all become short with one another. After the shower incident the day before, Simon and Jayne were not permitted within ten feet of each other. The Shower incident (which even now caused him to shiver) was too horrific to mention and all he knew was that he could never look at Blinky in the same way again.

Wash had tried to start a game of Tall Card but Kaylee and River had lost two of the cards the day before and so, until they got a new pack, that was out as well. Great. Simon looked at the clock; one minute had passed. Just great.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Three Hours Later**

The second the cargo ramp dropped, Simon was gone. River was with Book (who had maintained his composure well during the two weeks) and Kaylee was spending the day with Inara; Mal, Jayne and Zoe were going to the drop point. He had, for the first time in too long, the day to himself. He could do whatever he wanted for-

"Hey Doc! Wait up!"

Great, just great.

Wash's heavy breathing form caught up with him and Simon stopped, letting the ginger pilot catch his breath back after the long, twenty feet run from the ramp to Simon.

"You, uh- you mind if I come with you?" Wash gasped out, looking at him with a wide grin.

"Well, I don't really know what I'm-"

"That doesn't matter," Wash interrupted, seemingly oblivious to the glare being not-so-subtly being shot in his direction. "We can just, y'know, hang out."

With that Wash linked arms with Simon (again, oblivious to the doctor's reluctance) and began to walk him towards the small market town in front of them. Dusty and apparently made completely out of wood, it was the quintessential old west style place. Any minute now Simon expected cowboys with large hats and lassos to tie him up and drag him off somewhere private and out of the way. _Actually_ , he mused, still being towed along, _that doesn't sound to bad at this moment in time._   Coming closer, Simon could see that, once again, he stood out like a sore thumb.

In his waistcoat and dress trousers (with the shoes to match) he was in stark contrast with the plain shirts and trousers that dominated the market in this Castle Rock. All around him people turned their heads, still in mid-conversation, to stare at him as he walked past. Wash, for once, was aware of this and proceeded to point it out to Simon.

"Oh look, Simon, you definitely seem like a one of a kind type of guy here! If we had any money we might be able to make you fit in more."

"Wait, what?"

Wash looked at him dumb founded and repeated: "If we had money we could buy you similar clothes. Then you wouldn't stand out so much." Wash would have continued had Simon not whispered "no money" right next to his ear. The pilot looked at the doctor funny before it dawned on him that nobody ever bothered to inform the (slightly) younger man about Serenity's economic status. Frowning in disapproval - because it irked him that nobody thought the Doc should be involved with the very ship he worked on - Wash nodded his head and elaborated.

"We haven't got much left; that's why this job has to pay well. Otherwise we'll all be stuck here. At least there's a bar for us to occupy ourselves whilst we wait for a magic money tree to grow. Oh look," he said as they pulled up outside the aforementioned establishment. "They even have quiz nights on a Tuesday; with you and River we can certainly be in with a chance." He laughed good naturedly but tapered off at his companion's silence. He turned to look, surprised to see the doctor with a look of intense concentration of his face. It appeared to Wash as though he was studying the other advertisements. The pilot was mainly correct for Simon was studying the advertisements. He was, however, looking at one in particular. On the surface it read:

**Mike Conley's Ranch**

**Friendly gathering at 18:50 every Wednesday**

**All welcome; bring lots of money for the 'Gentleman's Man' fund**

"Hey Wash," he began gently, making the Pilot stare harder in confusion. "Do you have all the ship's money on you?"

"Well yeah but-"

"Could I have it?"

Wash looked at him for a moment, twisted to look at the advert, spun back to Simon and began to laugh. Loudly. For a full minute.

When he realised Simon was serious, he stopped and felt his eyes widen. The man couldn't be serious could he? He wanted to squander all their money on a charity event and just expected that Wash (and the rest of them) would be fine with it.

"Uh Simon I don't think that I should. I mean, it's not like it's a bad cause but, it's just-"

"Wash, do you trust me?" The earnest tone stopped him dead and Wash found himself looking into grey eyes. He nodded in confirmation and practically felt Simon sigh in relief. "Then please, give me the money. And," he started up again as Wash began to voice his protests. "If you don't want to hand it over, come with me and see why I need it."

Pivoting on his heel, Simon strode off, an intrigued Wash behind him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't until they were at the cusp of the Ranch's gate that Simon spoke again.

"That poster is more than it seems Wash. It is a code for those in the know that seems completely inconspicuous to those without the group. I happen to be in the group and have just found a fantastic way for us to earn some money in a quasi-legal way but it is not without its risks. That is why I need you to trust me, okay?"

Simon's excitable tone was silently interrupted by a large, robust shadow falling across them. Wash stared up in awe and thought, for a moment, that the way the black guy was marching towards them that they were going to perish with one swipe of his meaty hand. To his surprise, the man broke into a wide grin, yelled out a boisterous "TAMMY!" and swept up Simon into his great arms, squeezing the life out of the man. Wash quickly became concerned for his friends bones before he was placed (surprisingly gently) onto the ground. Simon laughed in delight (a sound practically unfamiliar to the Pilot's ears) and reached out a hand, shaking the other man's with an equally loud "Switowski". With vigorous back slapping and more greetings and utterances the men separated and Simon turned to Wash, gesturing to the giant before him.

"Wash I would like you to meet my good old friend Switowski. He may not be the brightest bulb in a box of broken bulbs but he's a good man." Wash swore that he blushed under the (not that heavy) praise. Switowski raised his hand and shook it in a universally recognised 'hello' and Wash, still baffled, muttered a greeting back. "Now, Switowski, I want to join in so do I give the money to you or to the owner?"

It took a moment for Switowski to realise he was being addressed but when he did he snatched Simon and began to pull him towards the centre of the Ranch, Wash stumbling along behind them. "You give it to the man Tammy! I'm just here for the Fed control!" Simon laughed again at his friends enthusiasm and motioned for Wash to join them as they stepped into the centre barn. "I come see you when it's your turn, OKAY!" With that he ran off, going back to the gate to stand guard.

Simon pushed open the double doors, smiling in delight at the familiar roaring of the crowd as he stepped in. Behind him, Wash was more hesitant and it took a moment for him to get the courage to step in. Spotting the booker, Simon stepped up to him and, taking the money from a flummoxed Wash, gave him all their money. Giving his alias (Stephan Tammy - Switowski's invention, not his) and making himself look pathetic as possible, Simon was greedily informed that his odds were 28-1; if he won, he would receive a massive 28,000 credits.  That, he surmised, would be enough to last them.

The rules were simple and rather similar to those he had used at fourteen. Only difference was head-butting was illegal (following a rather sickening death two years prior) and there was no limit on rounds; you went on till someone fell.

Making his way back to Wash, Simon pointed to a single seat in the make-shift arena and ordered him to wait. With that, he moved off into the side building to get ready.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When his name was announced, Simon took a deep breath, shook himself one more time and reminded himself of the mantra from Langford's club : _Think with sense, not with sentiment_.

Stepping out, Simon was taken aback by the pure passion flying out from the crowd around him. He stood in the middle of a wooden ring, sand creating the floor. Blood stained the ground and sweat lined the wooden border; yelling shook his ears and the stale smell of sweat filled his nose. _Perfect_.

A growl in front of him alerted him to the arrival of his opponent. A small, brutish, bald man, he almost laughed at the stereotypical image of the angry, testosterone filled fighter. Glancing to the left he could see the pale, shocked face of his friend surrounded by the thick set, spittle flying mob around him. As the other man's team began to pump him full of water, Simon noticed Switowski coming in and motioned for him to come nearer.

"He Swasy, do you want to be my ring side?" The man's head almost went flying with the enthusiasm he put in the nod. Chuckling Simon moved to the edge of the arena and watched, with a complete air of calm, as the fighter opposite brushed off any more water and stood up, gesturing to the 'unofficial official' that he was ready; Simon repeated the action and both men moved to the centre. Being his only fight Simon was thankful that he didn't have to pace himself for multiple assailants in a short period of time.

Both men were shirtless and Simon could already see the man was perspiring slightly due to the oppressive heat in the building. Spotting an early advantage Simon began formulating a plan in his mind. _Think with sense, not with sentiment._

The bell sounded and the man came at him furiously, trying to capitalise on his more muscular frame. Simon ducked the sloppy shot and performed a fast one-two combo to the man's stomach, twisting away at the last second as his opponent lashed out with a wide left haymaker that came no where near Simon's ear. Simon struck out like lightning, roundhouse kicking the stomach before dancing back, blocking the forward kick that came after him. The first round continued in a similar manner, with Simon using barely any energy and forcing the other to chase him with wild, predictable shots. As the round came to an end Simon returned to his side, outwardly indifferent. The other man (who Simon learned was called Samson) was gasping for breath and began chugging water like it was a precious commodity. Now thoroughly invested, Simon did not noticed the staggered look on Wash's face.

Once again the bell sounded and Simon pounced, not giving his 'enemy' the time to think as he dished out a punishing flurry of jabs to his belly, finishing with  hard punch to the left eye. He bounced back, smirking as Samson let out a frustrated roar and charged after him, running straight into the side kick that Simon executed perfectly. Samson gagged and Simon leapt on his chance, landing a four punch combination followed by a brutal knee strike to left eye again as his opponent bent over slightly. Again he backed off, blocking the first two punches but wincing as the third hit him in the chest. Shaking his head and repeating _Think with sense, not with sentiment_ , Simon calmed himself just in time to shift out of the way of the front kick and spin around quickly, lashing out with a back kick that clipped the man's ribs. As he keeled over Simon moved forward, looking to perform another combo on his stomach when, to his surprise, Samson reached out, grabbed his neck and smashed their heads together. Simon fell onto the sand, oblivious to the boo's as a foot caught him on the nose. He would have fell victim to a fatal beating had the bell not rung out.

As he staggered back to him side, he gradually became aware of the cries of discontent coming from the crowd but everything, including Switowski as he began to point out different strategies, sounded muffled and disjointed, as though he were underwater. Again he noticed his opponent gulping down large volumes of water and altered his plan, deciding to end it all in the third round.

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Wash, despite his earlier nervousness, began to find himself being swept along with the crowd. He roared in delight as he watched his friend - a _doctor_ might he add- beat the other fighter and hissed in disapproval at the obvious display of cheating that the unofficial official didn't catch due to being distracted by an unruly pair of brigands who decided to make a go of it at the side of the arena. He had absolutely no idea that Simon could fight like he could and found himself respecting the man a little more. When the third round began he joined the rest of the mob at the edge of his seat and yelled in delight as Simon raced forward, managing to pull off a fantastic six punch combination to the man's chest and stomach. He deftly swerved out the way and pushed out with a cross, hitting the guy so hard that even Wash could tell Samson's jaw became dislocated.  Samson shouted in pain and Simon stepped in, hitting furiously at his stomach before lashing out with a forward kick, spinning into a back kick and then jumping back. Wash went silent with the rest of them as Samson wobbled, clutched at his stomach, made a slight whimpering noise and crashed to the floor unconscious, a slight trickle of water leaking from his lips.

Even more amazing, Simon fell to the floor and turned the man onto his side so that he could breathe easier. Rubbing his back to help expel that water, Simon was completely unaware of the UO counting down from eight; he was completely concerned with the well being of Sampson. Wash wasn't sure what surprised him the most: Simon winning or Simon caring for the man that had just tried to beat him to a pulp in a mostly illegal fight. When his name was yelled for the victory, Simon hopped up (after reassuring himself that Samson was okay) and raised his arms in celebration, breathing heavy and sweating bucket loads, a humongous smile upon his face. When the whooping from the audience began to die down, Simon left the arena and Wash stepped down from his seat in the stands, heading towards the barn entrance. When he managed to push his way through the jostling gathering, he found Simon already there in only shirt sleeves, money and waistcoat in hand. He was still grinning when they left, waving wildly to the gushing Switowski as they made their way to the path leading back to Castle Rock.

"Simon that was incredible! I mean you just hit him and hit him and then he hit you and -" Wash carried on excitedly but halted when he felt Simon begin to lean heavily on him.

"D'you mind if we jest si' down here?" Simon's slurring voice concerned him and he spun, lowering the woozy doctor to the road. The younger man shook his head, tilting it to one side and tapping his ear. "Imma liddle bit dizzy Wasssss." Worried, Wash knelt down and lifted up Simon's chin, and found himself gazing into slightly glazed over eyes. _Wo de ma,_ what was he going to do? He heard footsteps behind him and saw one of the men who had supported Samson heading towards them. Now, Wash was worried. Would he try and fight Simon for beating his friend? There was no way Simon could fight him off and there wasn't a chance in hell that Wash could.

To his pleasant surprise, the man knelt in front of Simon and began examining him, gruff voice breaking the stressful silence. "Don't look so worried little man. Your man here is an honourable sort and it would be wrong of me to betray that honour at this time. I'm going to give him these," at this he withdrew two plain looking pills and placed them in Simon's mouth, forcing the doctor to swallow them. "and they will clear his head. It's just the after effects of that head butt; I've seen it many times before . That's why I came out here." After a moment he spoke again: "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies." and with that said he straightened up and moved back to the Ranch. Wash opened and closed him mouth a few times before shutting it and sitting down next to Simon, feeling the man rest his head on the pilot's shoulder.

Half an hour later Simon began to regain his senses and he blushed as he spied the drool on his friend's shoulder. Shaking his head to clear the metaphorical cobwebs, he uncurled his legs and shot up, stumbling at the spots that filled his vision. He felt Wash's hand on his arm and turned to him, smiling. Lifting up the bag of money he chuckled at Wash's expression before slapping him on the back and moving on. Wash snapped out of his shock and began to follow, baffled by the doctor's sudden return to health. A mile or so down the road Simon spun abruptly and stared Wash straight in the face. "Wash, what happened back there, nobody can know."

Wash was confused. The man was a great fighter and he didn't want recognition? "But Doc, you could easily take Jayne down! Actually, why not. I'll set up a little bet and then you-"

"Wash! I'm serious. I don't want anyone to know. Now please, promise me you won't tell anyone." Dumbfounded, Wash nodded in silence and watched as Simon buttoned up his waistcoat, appearing once again as the fish-out-of-water core boy. In silence, they walked all the way back to Serenity. Well, they got ten paces before Wash started talking about the fight in loud, excitable tones.

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Returning to the ship nearly an hour later, Wash gulped at the sight of his angry wife stood, arms crossed, on the ramp. Her expression might of been blank but Wash just knew she was planning fifty different ways to kill him.

"Zoe!" The loud voice made him jump and he swivelled his head to look at Simon, who was waving the bag of money around. "Look what Wash won in the competition up at the ranch.  Apparently he can juggle goslings!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good day ladies and gentlemen, chaps and chapettes. 
> 
> Apologise for the late update , hope you enjoy and make sure you click that kudos.
> 
> Also apologise if the money is incorrect.
> 
> If you really like it make sure to comment.
> 
> Ta much


	5. Ariel AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's attempts to protect his sister at St.Lucy's doesn't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Back again!  
> Please smack that kudos button and leave a comment below if you're enjoying it. If you're not, leave a comment anyway to tell me what you want to see different- don't be shy!

"Well, I, I could use another couple minutes. I-I'm sure if we get in touch with Captain Reynolds..."

Simon couldn't quite understand why the plan had changed. Surely the Captain would have left a message for when he woke up? Looking at Jayne's impatient face, however, caused him to doubt himself and the retaliating comment of :"Captain gave his orders, we play it by the book." made him feel like it was completely out of his hands.  Hearing his mei-mei scream caused his heart to tear and he _prayed_ , moving towards her and uttering soothing noises, that the scans would provide him with all the answers so he could make her better again.  His nerves were not helped by Jayne's repugnant attitude towards his sister and he couldn't help lashing out at him.

Moving hurriedly down the corridor, River's sudden pleading ("No, no, I can't go back. I don't wanna go back.") reminded him so much about the day she left the box that it almost brought him to tears. The only thing that stopped him was the data stick burning a whole in the pocket of the ivory robe. He pushed the wheelchair forward, more aware than he should be of the leer in Jayne's eyes. Was it him or did Jayne seem a little too eager for him to go through the door? _Probably just anxious_ , he resolved. Moving through the door, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Now they could---

"Federal Marshals! Don't move! River and Simon Tam, by the authority of the Union of Allied Planets, you are hereby bound by law."

**_fay-fay duh pee-yen_ **

****Well, he'd be damned if he let them just waltz in and take his beloved mei-mei from him after all his trouble. As two men from both sides ran at him, weird shaped weapons in arms, Simon spun the wheelchair, shoving it (and therefore River) through the glass door before pivoting, raising his right leg and sending it crashing into the Fed coming in from the left. Disregarding Jayne and not waiting to see if the man fell, he twisted again, ducking under the swing from the gun-turned-club and lashing out with a fierce upper cut. More men were coming towards him and, out the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Jayne struggling against a few Feds. _Strange,_ it occurred to him whilst he was punching out another young uniform, _why aren't they using their weapons?_  More came at him and he went at them like a man possessed; it no longer mattered that River could find out about his more violent, animalistic side. Blocking another rifle butt, he yanked it from the arms of its owner and swung it around him like a bat. Feeling it connect he dropped it and sank down into his usual stance, a wave of confident reassurance sweeping over him. As he took one down with ease (just how badly were they trained?) another immediately took his place and Simon found himself growing exhausted as ever increasing numbers of feds flooded the area, trying to move him away from guarding the glass doors.

A crash from beside him distracted him and he frowned when he sighted Jayne shaking on the floor, groaning faintly. His lapse of concentration cost him when he turned and felt the full force of a rifle butt to the face. Shouting in pain he tumbled to the floor where three men were on him instantly, pinning him to the floor and roughly securing his hands behind his back. A few dirty kicks to his torso and then he found himself being dragged up to his feet. 

"Take them to Processing."

With teary eyes he watched all his efforts go down the drain as River was frog marched in front of him.

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When they arrived at the processing centre Simon was positioned in front of a chair and, with a couple of sneaky punches, found himself sat down in a small degree of agony. Hearing footsteps he wearily lifted his head and found himself staring into furious eyes. The bloodied nose below them indicated that this was one of the men he had 'laid the law' on down by the back entrance. Behind him, arms crossed to appear more threatening (and boy did that not work with their black eyes and corked teeth), was the small number of feds he had dished out some of his own justice on. The man in front of him raised his fists and swung, sending Simon's head first to the left, then the right, then back to left. When he stepped back Simon gasped for breath, trying to ignore his pain and the sounds of River screaming. How much he wanted to comfort her! The next fed stepped up to the plate and handed out forceful revenge to Simon's unprotected chest. When he had finished, leaving Simon keeled over, spitting globules of bloodied spit onto the finely polished boots of the next in line. Snatching the young Doctor's chin, he hefted up a metal baton and sent it crashing into Simon's jaw. Only when Simon then had to be dragged back onto the chair did agent McGinnis call a stop to the beating.

Through his hazy hearing he could hear River's painful shrieking and even Jayne's gruff voice objecting to the rougher-than-usual treatment. As the feds sauntered away, cockily relating the attack, he felt Jayne uncharacteristically move his shoulder so it came to rest under Simon's chin, allowing him to rest his throbbing head. _Must be worst than I first thought for Jayne to act with compassion._ Beside Jayne, River had quietened into whimpers and Simon began to comfort her.

"Mei-mei," here he coughed, painfully ejecting blood from betwixt his lips. "it's okay, I'm okay. Don't worry about me. It'll all going to be okay." None of them dared disagree with the statement in the same way that Jayne didn't bother to mention just how little of Simon's words were intelligible through the slurring and hacking. Regardless, it seemed to placate River and she hushed up, looking wide-eyed at the space around her. Simon groaned and let his eyes close, feeling like all his wounds were conducting a symphony of hurt. They snapped open a second after River began another confounding speech.

"They took Christmas away."

Simon looked at her in confusion. Why on Earth-that-was was she talking about Christmas?

"Came downstairs for the shiny presents. They took the tree and the stockings. Nothing left but coal." The haunting slow speech had a curious effect on him, and seemed to wash the pain from Simon. The light tone at the end plucked at his heartstrings as memories of a much younger River, so inquisitive and amazed, rushed through his mind.  Jayne's demand faded into the background and even some of the officer's around them appeared to be drawn in.

"Don't look in the closet, either. It's greedy. It's not in the spirit of the holiday." The little giggle at the end shook him from his stupor and he discovered that Jayne was somehow managing to glare at both Tam's simultaneously. They were all snapped out of their own bubble with the arrival of agent McGinnis and the officers from earlier. Simon tensed involuntarily and, upon hearing the harsh "Get up." he decided to not broadcast his fear. If it meant another beating to show his defiance then so be it. 

When the demand was repeated, this time with hands snatching at him and forcing his aching body up, and his question blanked he shrugged it off and faced up to the form before him. Both men glared at the over, neither wanting to give way to the over. 

"Agent McGinnis, I'm certain you're working under a superior who is keeping close tabs on this case. I'm certain of that because important people don't do field work. I'm also quite certain your superior wants me and my sister alive. Now, I'm not going to move from this spot until one of two things happens. You answer my very simple question; or you shoot me." Feeling satisfied he allowed the firm look to dominate his face. If they wouldn't let him fight with fists then they word have to face his words. McGinnis didn't look impressed (or even slightly put out, he noted with disappointment) and answered him curtly.

"We are transferring you into a holding area, until you can be retrieved."

"Retrieved? By whom?" (By this time, even Jayne was reluctantly impressed by his gall)

 "People who want you alive. People not me. Take them."

As they were being marched out, McGinnis called for them to halt, adding on a "Make sure the doctor isn't hurt _too_ much."

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Jayne's face crumpled in barely concealed disgust as the man handling Simon tripped him to floor again. He had been one of the one's the doc had somehow managed to take out (he hadn't been watching, due to him speaking subtly to McGinnis, the bastard) and now was getting his revenge. Despite his less than morale lifestyle, Jayne couldn't see the honour to beating a defenceless man for protecting hisself and his sister - even if they were fugitives. Watching with slits for eyes, Jayne was tempted to try and yank his arms free as the guard taunted Simon, ordering him too his feet only to knee him in the face as the doctor rose to his knees. Next to him River seemed to be enjoying it even less and she stared at her brother with karge, teary eyes. After allowing Simon to regain his feet, they marched (or limped) on to the cell. It didn't take a genius (which was good for Jayne) to realise that soon Simon wouldn't be able to get to his feet and would therefore be subject to more blows. Whilst Jayne would happily of handed them over for a fee and never see them again, it didn't hold with him that they should have a go at the doc. Sure, he could be a pain in the pigu but that didn't mean he deserved to be treat like an animal. Despite his internal warnings, he found himself feeling more and more guilty about betraying them -irrespective of his own betrayal of course- and resolved to help them escape; that way nobody would suspect him as having part of it!

After a few minutes too long, the small group arrived at the bleached white cell. Seeing the guard go to shove the sagging Simon, he hit back with his elbow, then gleefully turned and kicked the other in the stomach.

Simon saw his chance and forced himself to move, pinning the guard to the wall with his shoulder before sending them both tumbling with a hasty leg sweep. Feeling his body shift almost automatically, Simon leapt up, forcing his knee to the other man's throat, ignorant to his struggles. When he eventually stopped moving, Simon pivoted, first checking that River was unharmed (which, thankfully, she was) then searching for Jayne. Finding him the victim of some vicious punches, he launched himself across the cell, adrenaline helping to block the pain. With his hands bound behind him there was little else to do but ram his shoulder into the guard's face, sending him flailing to the ground. Simon instinctively sent out a hard kick to the kidney, feeling the man beneath his feet stiffen. Without consciously realising it, he sent out another kick, this time to the side of the head. Whilst it didn't knock him out, it certainly sent him senseless.

In an instant Jayne was on him and Simon felt himself sink into the wall behind him. Soft hands accompanied by a teary voice alerted him and he looked into the eyes of sister, softening his gaze so as not to alarm her anymore than necessary. When Jayne finished his fight (ending it with a neck snap that made him wince) and unlocked his hands, he moved straight to a sonic gun, picking it up and handing it to Jayne before going to River, collecting her shaking form in his sore arms. Embarrassingly, he felt himself leaning on her slightly as his injuries caught up to him but, as they left the cell and went back into the corridor, he pushed himself upright, groaning in pain. _Definitely a broken rib or two_ he diagnosed irritably.

His attention was snatched from without as he saw Jayne begin to move the way they had just come from.

"What are you doing?"

Jayne stared at him as though he were an idiot.

"Going out the way we came in." The deadpan voice clearly backed up the Simon-is-an-idiot theory.

"There are at least four armed feds out there."

"Six, I know."

Simon glanced behind him, watching his sister shuffle gingerly. Taking a deep breath he gestured to the left and made a decision.

"We run."

Obviously, Jayne disagreed and the two began to bicker, troubles forgotten as both men tried to prove themselves the better decision maker.  The argument would have gone on for longer if it weren't for the screaming (that haunting, hair-raising sound) and River's hasty departure. Throughout their frenzied run through the bowls of the hospital, Simon could feel the pain increasing and he wondered how much longer he could carry on. The beatings plus the exhausting fight not even an hour earlier had wiped out his energy and he found himself falling behind. Just as lucky then when Mal and Zoey found them.

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Hours later, when River had fallen to sleep (and, unbeknownst to him, Jayne had been firmly warned) Simon staggered his way to the infirmary, each step causing a burning sensation to shoot through his lead like limbs. Sluggishly roving through the infirmary cupboards, collecting the necessary supplies, he let out a curse (that would have made him mother blush) as a tube of salve tumbled from his arms. Great. Preparing himself for the agony that would no doubt spring up from him bending down, he tensed up upon registering the collected voice originating from the doorway behind him.

"Need some help with that?" The calm, nearly soothing voice of Serenity's first mate relaxed him and he wheeled cautiously around to face her. It didn't surprise him when he couldn't read her expression. He faltered for a moment, deliberating on whether or not he wanted her there but, in the end, he gave in. Breathing out noisily and side stepping he nodded, letting out a quiet 'If you wouldn't mind.'

She shook her head, eyes softening as she reached down, snagging it off the floor. "Don't worry none," She removed the equipment from his arms, silencing his protests with a glance. "I've patched up plenty in my time. Why don't you hop up there and let me do it one more time?"

Blanching, he studied her determined look and answered back, wanting to keep some of his dignity: "I don't want to trouble you. Besides, it isn't that bad and I wouldn't expect you to, uh, well-"

He broke off self-consciously when she chuckled at his bashful excuse. Completely disregarding his objections, she guided him gently to the examination bed and waited for him to remove his shirt. Seeing the conglomeration of dark, painful looking bruises, she winced in sympathy but said nothing, knowing from experience that Simon would be feeling horrendously exposed as she patched him up. It must be strange, she considered, for the doctor to be looked after by a patient? Shaking her head she continued wiping away the blood and wrapping gauze over the areas where the skin had split. True to his belief, Simon had broken two ribs and had suffered a sprained ankle from being tripped. Blood was plastered over his pale chest, as was innumerable bruises.

"Jayne told us that you took a hell of a beating after taking some of those Feds down doctor." Taking the sheepish ducking of his head for confirmation she smiled ruefully at him, even though she knew it went unnoticed. "I think that was mighty impressive. You don't get many from the core willing to take it and then stand up to those that done it."

As Zoe finished patching him up, she stayed with him, watching him ingest some painkillers. Moving with him to the couch outside, she moved off to the side, producing the hot drink she had made earlier (for she had always intended to see him and make sure he was okay). Zoe almost laughed as she observed him trying to remain awake, shaking his head slowly every few seconds in order to wake himself up. Like a panther, she glided silently over to him, sitting down beside the younger man. A few more minutes passed with her watching the doctor try his hardest to not go to sleep.

Eventually she realised that he wouldn't let himself go, so she shifted towards him and, with a gentle hand, guided his head to her shoulder. She had not the time to tell him to sleep because by the time she started, he had already dropped off.


	6. Mrs Niska part 1

Mal was reluctantly happy. They had completed a job (all perfectly legal of course) with no problems and now he'd been given one straight of the bat by the same guy, so pleased as he was with their success. Named Mr. Swallow, the tall, whipcord thin man looked so out of place that Mal couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Only a little bit though because his stylish clothes made it clear he had the money to go anywhere. Currently, he occupied a small business office on Trinculo VII, a small fringe planet that had remained neutral during the war and, as such, did not have a large Alliance presence. That was why the Tam's were sat with him - why all of the crew was sat with him. Swallow had asked to meet the entire crew this time and refused to make a deal unless he, quote, "Saw the wondrous bunch that did me right." Inara wasn't there however, as she was 'entertaining' a client.

The chairs they sat in were plush, the rest of the furniture was lavish and, all in all, it looked more like a fancy core radiance than a business establishment. Evidently it didn't cater to the normal folk that lived around it.

"Captain Reynolds, mmm. Interesting crew here. I mmmm think I have the job for you. mmmm, yes. I do." The voice was barely above a whisper and the annoying humming that came out a random moments got on his nerves. Looking at Jayne's twitching hand and Zoe's taunt jaw, it was clear he wasn't the only one. The man sounded ponderous, even when talkin about the most trivial things - ' mmmm, lovely weather for it.'

"Well, I'd be mighty happy to here it." In comparison, Mal's voice seemed to boom across the room, jolting Simon and Wash who were falling asleep as they listened to Swallow drone on. At this point, Mal would have paid the man to just get on with it; even he was having trouble remaining attentive. Swallow nodded again to himself, turned slightly, turned back, nodded again and stepped closer to his desk. Rifling through some papers, he frowned, this time shaking his head.

"Missing something Sir?" Zoe's voice Swallow from his internal monologue and Mal watched as Swallow contemplated what he had been asked, hummed again before chuckling weakly at a joke only he seemed to know.

"mmm yes. My papers for the job. mmmm." He tilted his head back, fingers playing with his white gloves. "Must be next door. Wait here a moment." An with that Swallow left in much the same way he lived; quiet and inconspicuous.  

Silence descended upon the group and it took Book coughing politely a moment later for it to break up. Jayne started flicking Simon (much to the younger man's protestation) which lead River to start rhyming Jayne with anything that popped into her wild head. Wash and Kaylee started to chuckle at their antics, made worse when Wash started playing 'flick Jayne whilst rhyming and see how quickly he gets annoyed.'. Catchy name. Zoe leaned towards him and began to speak in a hushed tone.

"Sir, does anything about this deal seem off to you?"

A look of intense worry crossed his face at the implication. Personally he could find no problems but it wasn't wise to put off Zoe's concerns - many times she had been proved right.

"It's just strange that anyone would want to meet an entire crew, no matter how thankful they are. Also, isn't it odd that he doesn't have the job ready?"

Mal hummed in response, mind already turning to the different possibilities of the meeting. Whilst meeting the entire crew and not having the job ready was plausible, Mal understood what Zoe meant. It was a little bit coincidental that all of them would be gathered together and then left alone. It just didn't happen. He shifted, hand resting on his pistol. Jayne noticed, squinting his eyes, and shifted his grip on his own gun. The other members of the crew noticed the tension in the air and gradually turned to look at their captain. Mal's glance worried them - though no one spoke aloud - and Kaylee pushed herself closer to Simon, wrapping a hand around his arm. He turned his head to utter calming words but soon found his other arm arrested by his sister, who had begun trembling from all the high strung emotions she could read in the air. Wash looked inquisitively at Zoe, wondering what was going through her mind. Book, strangely, also seemed to be analysing everything in sight with what appeared to be a trained eye.

Before anyone could say anything substantial, a small hissing noise filled the room, accompanied by a slightly sharp smell. Mal watched the doctor's eyes go wide and heard, as though he wasn't in the room with them, as Simon cried out: "Everyone down! Cover your mouth and nose!" Confused, they flung themselves to the floor, Book gently wrapping an extra handkerchief over River's mouth and nose as Simon jumped up and ran to the door; Mal didn't even need to watch as Simon tried to open it. He already knew it would be locked. A barley visible grey mist has started to seep in and Mal watched the doctor stumble into the wall, coughing harshly. Of course the fool had forgotten to follow his own advise. Kaylee made a move to stand up but was stopped by Book placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Simon stumbled forward, coughing again, before collapsing in a heap near Jayne. Despite his dislike of the doctor, the mercenary crawled forward and checked his pulse. Turning to Mal, he nodded to show that he was still alive. Which was great because Mal soon felt himself begin to drift off....

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Mal shot up, breathing hard. He swivelled his head in wild panic, body and mind still shaking off the last of the drugs effects. Forcing himself to calm down, he slowed his breathing, counting to ten. Opening his eyes again (despite not remembering closing them), he moved his head slower, taking in the large cell, the cage in front of the door and the bodies strewn around the room. All the crew was there, sprawled out in different positions. On the note, where was here? There were no clues in the cell - it was a plain white cell, completely non-descript apart from the cage that surrounded the door. All he could really remember was Mr. Swallow leaving the room and then smoke filling it up. What exactly was Swallows game? He'd better be ready with a large group of bodyguards cause Mal was pretty ready to beat his ass into the next galaxy.

Shuffling beside him alerted him to the awakening of Kaylee. He moved closer, remaining silent whilst she gathered her bearings. Seeing that she was falling back to sleep, he shook her gently, chuckling as she let out a small "Simon?".

"Well, little one, I'm mighty please you think I'm a pretty, young doctor but unfortunately for you, I'm just a mean ol' captain."

"You're not mean, Cap'n" Kaylee's eyes opened completely, a laconic smile on her face before she registered the area around her. Instantly her breathing hitched and Mal laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'm gonna get us out of here. Wherever here is." He muttered the last part, not wanting to worry Kaylee more. Thankfully she didn't ask any more questions; she trusted that he would do as he said. Gradually, the rest of the crew started to wake up: Starting with Zoe and ending with Simon (who instantly crawled over to his sister). Once everyone was fully aware and had taken in their position, Mal called for their attention. Once he had it, he turned and addressed the doctor.

"What was that stuff doc? You seemed to know before we even fully realised it was a trap."

"It was some form of chloroforic gas. I don't know specifically which one, but that sharp smell is a unique signature of it."

River started mumbling unintelligibly and they all stared at her for a moment whilst Simon busied himself wrapping an arm around her comfortingly. She leant into his embrace and they turned away once they realised she had nothing of importance to add. She grabbed their attention again though, when she began repeating "they're coming, they're coming." over and over again. Simon tried quieting her but Mal, Zoe and Jayne (and, by the looks of it, Book) all tensed up in preparation for a confrontation.

They did not have to wait long before the sounds of a key being turned in the lock echoed in the room and all eyes shifted towards the metal door behind the metal barrier. As it opened, two men equal in size to Jayne stepped through, guns held at rest; they were being protected by the cage. Mal was about to open him mouth and demand an explanation when an old-ish woman, firm of face and small of stature, stepped in and smiled broadly, as though she were at a faire and not looking at her prisoners. In contrast to his usual cocky attitude, Mal found himself at a lost at the woman before him. Surely, surely, they couldn't have been captured on the orders of _her_.

"Welcome, crew of serenity." The croaky voice, with its strong Russian tone, was a touch too close to another to let Mal be comfortable. "As you can see, I have brought you here for a little bit of, how'd you say...revenge."

"Revenge. Revenge for what?" Wash spoke up, moving from the back of the room closer to his wife. The woman laughed heartily, as though he had just told the greatest joke of all time; Nobody else did.

"Can you not guess, hmm? Does my voice not remind you of someone else?"

"Would that be Adelai Niska?" The soothing tones of Book seemed out of place and even the woman appeared to be distracted by the soft voice. Mal took another long look at her and realised what Book had said rang true; the woman sounded like Niska and had that mild-mannered way of speaking that made Niska one of the creepiest men he'd ever seen.

"Why yes!" She cried, regaining her verbal footing. "Well done to you. Yes, I am the wife of Adelai Niska, the poor, loving man you unjustly murdered." Her voice took a dark tone at the end, making Mal (and the rest of the group) take an unconscious step back.

"Lady you must be like moonbrain here if you think that man was anything but-" Jayne's shouting was cut off by a gunshot into the ceiling. Mrs.Niska had pulled out a small, unassuming pistol and had fired it to maintain her superiority. Narrowing her eyes at the mercenary's accusation, she stepped back up to the mantle.

"My husband was a good man and I will not let your lies persuade me otherwise. Besides, you are lucky. I could have just killed you?"

"So why didn't you?" Came Kaylee's frightened voice. She shrunk into Simon's side as the evil eyes swung to her.

"Because, my dear girl, I thought it would best serve my husband's memory if you were punished. After all, naughty children must be punished!" Her voice had ridden to a painfully high pitch at the end, causing Mal to wince. Not appearing to notice the added discomfort, she marched on, oblivious to their incredulous stares. "So, I have created for my own amusement an...opportunity for you to play at resistance. I will let one of you go out of this room and fight for a privilege. Win and you will all get something. Lose and, well, lets say no one gets anything for losing, apart from a coffin."

She laughed in an piercing shriek like way that brought on a headache. The woman was obviously delusional and the gleeful way she explained that, should they refuse, they would all be gunned down unnerved him more than anything else. When she asked for volunteers, Zoe, Jayne and himself began arguing who would be best for completing the task. They were unintentionally stopped when a familiar, upstanding voice spoke up.

"I'll do it."

Simon began to move his way forward as the guards opened the cage door, pointing their weapons at the rest of them, just in case they thought of doing a runner.

"I don't think so doc. See I got a notion that-"

"It will be fine Captain." The unshaken voice interrupted him and he looked at the younger man quizzically. "You, Zoe and..Jayne have a much better chance of getting us out of here if you are at full health. As your doctor, it is in your best interests to let me go in your stead." Simon looked at him, clearly not expecting any resistance. Mal opened and closed his mouth, mind whirring as it tried to think of a reasonable counter argument. Finding he could provide none, he sighed dejectedly and nodding, silently telling the boy he'd trust him. Simon gave a small smile and turned to his sister, whispering a quiet "Love you mei-mei" before heading for the door. Reaching the guards, his hands were roughly tied in front of him and he was manhandled out, metal clanging behind him like a death sentence.

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Simon was led to a crude fighting ring that was surrounded on all sides by raised seats, filled to the brim with roaring beasts of men, spittle flying viciously as they yelled out in euphoric excitement. Without so much as a warning, Simon was thrown into the centre and the noise increased tenfold, the men excited at finally seeing some action. Two men approached him, one of whom severed his bonds with a knife.

"Shirt off."

The brisk order was barked with no emotion and Simon stared at him in confusion. At least, he did until the man began to undo the buttons forcefully, pushing Simon's hands out the way. Stepping back, Simon began to undress his top half, determined that the ape before him would not touch him. Finally getting it off, the rough material was snatched from his hands and he was left alone in the centre, the mob around him shouting degrading insults. Not even a minute later a high pitched squealing drew his attention to the opposite side of the ring where a rusty gate was being raised.

The man stepping out of it was colossal, standing even taller than the mercenary he had just left behind in the cell. A grotesque scar covered the left side of his face and he glared hard at Simon, who had to admit that he was daunted. He might be a good fighter, but even he could be knocked out if a mans fist was essentially a sledgehammer.

"Doctor!" The loud shout from the top of the stands threw him for a second before he recognised it as Mrs Niska's. "You fight for water. Do you understand?"

Before Simon could agree, he had to dive out the way as the aforementioned meaty fist came hurtling towards him. His narrow miss sent the crowd into a frenzy and the began to slam their hands onto the wooden sill that was the top of the seating in front of them. Rolling backwards, Simon hopped up and sank into his stance, fists raised and adrenaline pumping in expectation. He ducked under the fist that swung at him, landing a punishing hit to the other's solar plexus. The man seemed unaffected and he charged at Simon again. Sidestepping, Simon moved quickly, raising his right leg and shooting it out straight so the guy ran straight into it. Unfortunately, he hadn't calculated the force with which the beast would run into it and so Simon found himself being thrown to the ground as his leg was pushed against hard. Instantly the guy was on top of him, fist slamming into the left side of him, focused on his left eye.

Pushing past the pain, Simon wrapped his legs around the guys ankles and pushed his legs straight out, forcefully yanking the man away from his face. Striking out with elbows, Simon maintained a brutal string of strikes as he kept the man's ankles prisoner. Sensing that he would soon lose this advantage, Simon quickly abducted his legs back to his chest and shot up to his feet, kneeing his opponent in the chin on his way up. As he lumbered his way up, Simon shot out a foot, kicking him powerfully in the face - there was no sense in acting honourably here. He raised his fist and prepared to drop to a knee and land it in the back of his head (hopefully knocking him senseless) but was prevented a sudden lash of pain and the capture of his wrist. Craning his neck to look back, he saw that one Niska's guards had pulled out a whip, trapping his wrist in it. _For fuc-_

A devastating fist to the gut dropped him back the floor, bond slipping away as a boot crashed into his ribs, sending him crashing onto his back. The boot came down again, smashing into his chest, making him curl up in pain. He watched with narrowed eyes at it prepared to hit him again but he managed to roll out of the way, on to his knees. He carried on turning once up, sweeping the man's legs out from under him. Sliding onto his back, Simon snatched the his arm, pulling it taunt across his bare chest whilst his legs swung over the top of his opponent, pinning him to the floor. Yanking the arm to the side and laying it over his right leg, Simon began to pull on the arm, raising the muscular tension. The guy started to struggle as the pain increased and he tried to lift his arm up in an attempt to lever Simon off. It had a negative effect, however, as Simon merely leaned back in mid-air, pulling the arm even more. Eventually it gave way, shoulder and elbow dislocating simultaneously. Simon rolled backwards as the guy roared in pain but shot forward when he started to roll onto his side, a clear sign he was going to stand up. The monster had turned his back to Simon as he did so and the doctor grabbed his chance like an eager child to a present.

He slid his arm around the throat, instantly squeezing, cutting off the much needed oxygen. His other arm started viciously striking the face, legs snaking up around the waist to secure his place. With one arm flapping uselessly, the man couldn't fight off the rear choke and eventually his struggles became weaker and weaker until, finally, he collapsed unconscious. 

Amidst the ecstatic yelling, Simon felt arms around him pull him up forcefully, a fist sinking into his gut as they did so. Exhausted he slumped in their hold, defenceless as his hands were bound tightly before him and he was pushed from the arena. He sighed in relief as he realised he had won; they would all be getting food. He decided that if him giving himself up each day would keep the three main fighters fit, it was a worthy sacrifice. His main concern was River - he didn't want her to see her older brother like this. His shirt was still off and the quickly forming bruises and blood stood in stark contrast to his pale skin.

They arrived back outside the cell door moments later so his bonds were cut and he was quickly shoved in, cage and door locked behind him. _Well,_ he considered, _at least they handed me back my shirt back. Kind of them._ Kaylee ran to straight to him, helping him slide down the wall as she cooed over him, too shocked to say anything. They all gawped at him, surprised that he had come back at all - even if his appearance was disturbing.

"How you feelin' Simon?" Wash's voice unnerved him for some reason and he turned to face him.

"Oh, I'm just peachy." His cheerful tone drew some weak chuckles but they instantly faded away. Simon waited, knowing that one of them would have to ask. No surprise that it was Mal that spoke up.

"What'd you get?"

"Food"

They went back to silence and, feeling self-conscious, he unthinkingly raised his arms to put his shirt back on. Biting back a groan, he closed his eyes as he continued redressing, not wanting to see the pitying glances being cast his way. Finished, he felt himself drain of all energy and slumped back against the wall. River padded over to him, his fleece (which she had commandeered earlier that day) rolled up under her arm. Squatting opposite him, she placed a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him to the floor, placing the fleece under his head. Gently squeezing his hand, she leant down and told him to sleep. Feeling drowsy as the final bits of adrenaline went away, he quickly relented and closed his eyes.

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Mal looked on it despair as the doctor surrendered himself to sleep. The young man looked terrible, bruises standing out painfully clearly. His left eye was beginning to swell and he watched as his the boy's sister gently ran her fingers over it, cocking her head and murmuring quietly. The large boot shaped one hadn't escaped his notice either and he wondered if Simon might have a broken rib or two from it. Either way, they needed to escape before they all ended up looking like Simon.

 


	7. Mrs Niska part 2

Zoe frowned as Simon was once again thrown back into their cell, more battered than when he had left some twenty minutes prior. He crashed to the ground with a soft groan, rolling on to his back to relieve pressure on his broken ribs. Kaylee and River helped him sit back against the wall, the former wiping the blood from his nose with a rag of cloth torn from his shirt. The doctor's left eye was completely closed from the swelling and his nose was a dark purple colour that made her wince just looking at it. He grimaced in pain, reaching out with a shaky hand and covering Kaylee's, stopping her in her tracks. Wearily he raised his lips into a smile and Zoe was pleased when Kaylee smiled back, grateful that the boy was raising her spirits. It made her respect him more; she knew many a man who would curse those from the core for being weak  but who wouldn't be able to hold up nearly as well as Simon was.

At that moment, she, Mal and Book were conferring quietly, trying to think of a way out. Jayne had been excluded because he could think of no alternative plan other than 'just rush 'em!'. So, he was promptly removed from the discussion. Unfortunately, they weren't doing so well and didn't take a genius (like to two hugging in the corner) to work out that Simon could not last much longer. Unbeknownst to Simon, Wash had, reluctantly, retold the story of the fight at the barn and how it was Simon, not him, that had won the money. At first, Mal and Jayne had been sceptical, Kaylee seemed not to mind (she just hoped it would help him live for longer) and Zoe found that, in some strange way, she wasn't all that surprised - the boy had a habit of surprising people. Looking at him now however, she realised just how good he must be if he could withstand all that pain and still stand up at the end of it and secure necessaries for them. They had eaten well and drank to freshest water everyday for the past six days, all thanks to him. Simon must have sensed her gaze because he withdrew from his doting companions, painfully heaved himself to his feet and stumbled over to them, sliding down the wall so he could sit beside them. He closed his eyes for a second as he landed on the floor, breathing heavy as his pains caught up with him; only for a second though. He reopened them and looked at the group with a great calm that didn't really suit the situation.

"How's it coming along? We got anything yet?"

They all glanced at one despairingly, Mal shaking his head at the younger man.

"Sorry doc," Mal began, looking apologetic. "We've been struggling on that front. We're not sure how we can get past the guards and that's the main thing."

"If we can get past them, the Captain reckons it will be easy to get out." Finished Book, gently touching the doctor's leg in reassurance. 

Simon's face dropped and he closed his eyes again, head leaning back against the wall. It should how much the whole thing trying him because he didn't open them again, falling to sleep in an instant. Zoe carefully lowered him to the ground, taking the offered coat from Mal's hand and resting it under his head. Their entire dynamic with Simon had changed over the course of their captivity and even Jayne discovered himself respecting for the younger man more. Where they had once had to put up with a prissy, core-bred dandy, they now saw a changed man, willing to sacrifice everything for the good of everyone else. Zoe absent-mindedly found herself running her fingers through his hair in a calming gesture, whilst Kaylee made her way over and gently took his hand, squeezing it slightly to make sure that, even unconscious, he knew she was there. As the hours dragged on, the entire crew somehow realised that they had all moved closer to the boy, shielding him from the door. Nobody moved away.

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Zoe startled awake as the door clanged loudly open, obnoxiously announcing the arrival of the fiendish Mrs Niska. She grinned in an eerily enthusiastic manner at the sight of the protective huddle and clapped loudly, emitting a pleased noise akin to that which one would make at a cute animal.  The group slowly sat up (for all had surrendered to sleep at some time or other) and glared with unadulterated hatred. This seemed not to faze her as she laughed at the lot of them. Her voice, already a source of many a headache, was loudly pitched in excitement.

"Well doctor? Are you coming out to play?" She giggled and watched, with terrible eagerness, as the doctor struggled to his feet, low whimpers coming from him as he pushed past his hurts. He was surprised, however, when Jayne pushed down lightly on his shoulder, forcing him back onto the floor. Mrs Niska looked on in surprise and slight disappointment at the large man coming towards her, scowling heartily at her and the guards besides.

"I'm doin' it today." He said curtly. Jayne stood in stoic silence as he was bound and led from the chamber, Simon's weak protests following him out.

Simon again attempted to sit up but found himself crying out in frustration when Book placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down. River placed his head in his lap and he moaned as his pain flared up due to the morning excitement. Zoe's eyes widened as he began to convulse slightly and she snatched his hand off the ground as it began to crash repeatedly onto the floor. When the fit ended a moment later, he slumped, boneless in the arms of his sister and panted heavily, eyes rolling as his wounds and exhaustion caught up with him. Kaylee, holding his other hand, was whispering soothing things under her breath until, eventually, Simon gave in to sleep, eyes closing lethargically. Wash moved in close to her and she eagerly leant into him. Kaylee had tears streaming down her cheeks. Mal, angry at his powerlessness, moved to the other side of the room and leant against the wall; Zoe could hear him furiously drawing up and discarding plans in his mind. Simon's breath was raspy and his body visibly struggled to draw it in against the pain that battered him on all sides. Flashing back to her earlier thoughts, Zoe again realised that Simon probably only had one fight left in him - and he wouldn't be the victor of it either. His chest was completely covered by dark bruises and one of his ribs was beginning to visibly push against the skin - a clear sign they needed to get out of the cell and back to Serenity.   

They stayed in this tense silence until Jayne returned, thrown to his knees as he re-entered the cell. Bruises marred his face and he winced as he stood up, heading towards the group. He cast a worried glance at Simon but covered up by grimacing at his own pain. Zoe wasn't fooled - Jayne was beginning to care for the young doctor.  Book helped Jayne sit down and they waited anxiously for him to speak and regale them with what had occurred outside their cell. He took a swig of water from the jug that was handed to him by Mal, who had just re-joined them.

"There's this big arena, its where they've been takin' doc these past few days. There's loads of 'em sat around it, looking down at ya and Niska's at the top. Tells me that if I win I will get food or somethin', I wasn't listening real well. Anyways, this gate opens and out comes this guy. Not as big as me (or as great) but he was a scrappy hudan and he got off a couple o' hits." _Probably more than a couple_ thought Zoe, looking at all the marks on him. "Anyways, I managed to git him and then was brought back."

They all stared at him expectantly; he frowned and grumbled to himself, taking another gulp.

"Is that it?" Asked Kaylee softly.

Jayne looked at her in confusion before coming out with 'yeah' and hunkering down against the wall, eyes lingering on the wounded man lying prostrate in front of him. Simon now had a slight feverish look about him as he was forced to surrender to inaction after Jayne left. Raising his head back up, he caught River giving him a strange look so he moved his gaze elsewhere. Nobody would look at him and he frowned, confused at the despairing air that hung about them. Surely they should be coming up with plans? He wasn't a smart man but even he could see that it was useless to just sit about.

"We got anymore plans?" There eyes shot to him and he stared at them all - a skill given he only had two eyes - daring them to deny it. Even Mal found himself shaken at the fury in the merc's eyes.

"No Jayne, we've hit a snag." Book spoke calmly, attempting to pacify him. "But we were just about to start up again. Any ideas Jayne?"

"Hell, all we need is to rush 'em. Like I said."

"And that would end up with us all dead," Zoe spoke in an irritated manner, tired of having to repeat herself. "That isn't exactly the aim here."

Jayne scowled again and asked what she had come up with. She looked him straight in the eye at this point and huffed - showing just how tired she was of the entire situation -, answering him with a firm "Nothing." Wash glared at him.

"Then we should try and rush 'em. At least that-"

"Oh be quiet-"

"What good would it-"

"Be quiet you'll-"

"I think it will work." The weak voice quieted them all and their glares weakened as they turned on Simon who, with the aid of his sister, was beginning to sit up. He waved the other hands off and took a second to compose himself, nostrils flaring as his breath shot out in painful sections. "I think..that it is a good plan."

They looked at him as though he were mad, which, considering his head wounds, was not an unfair assumption. Mal vocalised this in a politer way, saying

"Are you sure you ain't still half asleep there doc? You realise you're agreeing with _Jayne_ (at this Jayne squawked in protestation) right? Jayne the man-ape?"

Simon huffed, angry that the words would not come. River lifted the jug to him, knowing before he asked what he needed. He took a careful sip, mindful of his swollen lips; finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before pushing himself further up the wall with weary legs.

"I know, I know. But think! Jayne's plan, if we amended it, could work."

"How?"

"Well simple. What should happen is....."

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The next morning none of them were awoken by the door - none of them had slept the night before. Mrs Niska wasn't with the guards, her customary routine of going one day and not the next was still being performed. Sighing heavily, Simon got to his feet and began to slowly limp across the floor. As he neared the gate Jayne shot towards him and, grabbing his arm, swung him round to face him, bellowing out "No way doc! This is my time."

Simon made a show of brushing him off and continued towards the guards but was once again stopped by Jayne wrapping a hand around his arm, telling him to stop. Simon pushed him away, stumbling into the metal cage. One of the guards, bored of the argument, placed his gun against the doorway and stepped into the room, backed up by the other guard who moved to the entryway of the metal cage, gun pointed at the squabbling men. He reached for the younger man but was stunned as a big fist crashed into his throat, furiously coercing him to keel over. Jayne's knee came flying up, catching him in the nose and sending him toppling to the floor. Before his friend could react, Simon hopped over to him and, kicking high in an arc, knocked the gun out his hands. Pouncing, Simon clutched the guards shoulders and twisted them towards him whilst sticking out his leg, tripping the guard as his body moved without permission. As he landed, Mal was on him, punching him hard in the face and knocking him out. Simon, exhausted by even that small fight, fell back against the cage, held up only by Wash and Book who had ran to his side the instant the guard had dropped. Jayne, finished with his man, snatched the gun from the floor and threw it to Zoe. Picking up the other, he moved to the door and booted it open with a strong kick.

They had escaped.

 

 


	8. Mrs Niska part 3

Simon moved swiftly down the deserted corridor, senses on high alert as they tried to exit the facility. All the guards must be at the arena (or so he and Jayne believed) meaning that their exit was going relatively easy. Adrenaline coarsening through his body, Simon was determined to see himself out of the facility. It didn't matter if he collapsed the second he left, he just had an overwhelming desire to walk out on his own as a big middle finger to the devilish Niska family. The crew of Serenity were moving in a line: Simon was behind Mal and Zoe, Wash, River and Kaylee behind him (River's hand lingered on his shoulder) and Jayne and Book at the back, covering their pigus. Despite the large group they moved slowly, making little noise apart from his own heavy breathing. Reaching a junction, Mal raised his arm in a universal gesture of 'Stop' and they did so, Jayne and himself leaning against the wall slightly. Motioning for Zoe to move to the left side, they both peaked their heads around the corners and, upon seeing it was clear, turned back and began to discuss which way they should go. The debate didn't last long before River, held back only by Simon and Kaylee, began pushing forward, quietly chanting "the odd 10%". Simon (along with the rest of them) stared at her in confusion until, like a train or Jayne's fist, the answer hit him.

"Left. We need to go left." Certain of his sister, Simon marched forward and reached the front of the line, turning left and gesturing for them to join him. His body felt electric as the chemicals within him started working faster in order to keep him going. They followed him with obvious hesitation and, as always, it was Wash that asked the question they were reluctant to.

"Not that we're doubting you or River (cause that would be crazy y'know?), but how do you know it is left?"

"On Earth-That-Was, roughly ten percent of people were left handed. Obviously River is telling us we need to go left and, as much as I don't like to buy into it, River seems to be able to just know how we should do things. Besides we-"

A small noise further up the corridor silenced him and they all pressed back into the wall, eyes wide and fearful. A solitary guard, donned in a black helmet and uniform, had just exited a door and was looking up and down the corridor. Simon held his breath and heard Zoe do the same. They all stood stock still, terrified of being caught and dragged back to the cell. Simon tensed up and began panicking, mind flashing back to the past six days of hell he had gone through, knowing that if he was caught he would be made to fight and this time, he wouldn't win. He began to breathe heavily through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling all his wounds come to life at once. His knees started to buckle and a few tears leaked out of his closed lids as he heard, in his mind, the roaring of the crowd and saw, images flashing vividly before him, the men he had fought previously walking from behind the metal gate. A firm hand gently enveloping his wrist snapped him out of it and he looked up into the concerned eyes of Zoe. Coughing inaudibly at his moment of weakness, he locked his knees and turned his face towards the guard.

The man was still stood there, stoically staring ahead as he guarded the door. He was a rather large man, about as tall as Jayne, and as Simon realised this, a plan sprung forth in his mind and he slowly backed up, forcing the rest of them to move back cautiously as well. Somehow they made it back around the corner and they crowded him, curious to know what he was thinking.

"That guy up there, I know how to get past him. All we need if for me to just quickly go back to the cell, so wait here!" he whispered forcefully. Before they could even fully process the terrible reasoning presented to them, Simon crouched-ran back to the cell. He moved swiftly towards the smaller guard and started to strip him. The uniform would be a bit big but that would probably make the plan go smoother. The black outfit easily fit over his other clothes but it saddened him that he had to abandon his own shoes as he replaced them with the guard's. _Lucky that we're both the same size then_.

Keeping the helmet off for the time being, he managed to reach the crouched group of Serenity. His right leg was beginning to drag a little bit so he knew they could waste no more time. They looked at him in complete bafflement (because he did look rather outlandish in the baggy uniform with a face that looked like a couple of horses took offence) and listened silently as he finished off his rushed explanation.

"Jayne pretends to be a prisoner whilst I'll be the guard. Jayne runs around the corner and I push him to the wall and shout for the guard to come and help me. When he does, me and Jayne can jump him!"

Mal looked rather unimpressed and even mumbled out a "Aren't you one for clichés today?" but had to admit they had no better plan. The guns would cause too much noise and they couldn't rush him for risk that he would get a warning off before they reached him. Putting the helmet over his head, Simon stood quickly but had to be steadied by Jayne when he fell against the wall feeling dizzy. Rolling his shoulders and offering a smile (which they couldn't see because of the helmet) he whispered for Jayne to start running. When he did, Simon took off after him, managing to snatch his shoulder and they turned the corner. Pulling down of Jayne, he managed to stick a leg between Jayne's ankles and, twisting his foot to the left, was able to trip him. Jayne was able to break his fall and began faux struggling with Simon, making sure he didn't really hurt him. Simon called out a quiet 'help me!' and the guard, as predicted, came running. As he got within reaching distance, Jayne's hand shot out and snagged his ankle. Pulling hard, the man crashed to the floor with a soft grunt and they instantly sprung to action. Unfortunately, his boot caught Jayne on the way down, knocking him senseless. Simon, seeing Jayne go still suddenly, felt aglifft but worked with it, using his emotions like medicine. With a powerful thrust of his arms, Simon pushed his body until it reached the guard's trunk and quickly landed an elbow to his solar plexus, winding him and halting his attempts to get up. Simon moved onto his knees, just in time for the guard to swing his arm in a strange, laying down, round punch. Simon intercepted the wrist, grabbing it in a claw grip. He hit the nerve at the top end of the forearm whilst simultaneously twisting the wrist in the direction of the thumb. Still winded, the guard could only pant frantically, mind whirring too fast to be effective. As the wrist snapped, Simon reacted quickly, crawling under the guard and wrapping an arm around his throat. With his other hand Simon covered his mouth and nose, robbing him of oxygen. Mal leapt forward at this point and secured the arm that had been holding the gun. Within minutes the guard stilled and Simon let out a sigh of relief, hurriedly checking that the guard was still alive. Assuring himself that he had not killed that day, Simon dragged himself to Jayne, completely oblivious to the awed looks of the rest of the crew.

Jayne was okay, to his immense relief. He'd become alert as Simon had been rear chocking the guard but his limbs wouldn't yet permit him to stand. By the time Simon moved over to him, Jayne had regained full control of himself and was even beginning to push himself up the wall, cursing like a sailor as he did so (Simon couldn't help blushing). Unfortunately, at this moment, Simon's body gave up and he slowly lowered himself back to the floor, eyelids half closed. His eyes were roaming and his breath came out in little pants. Strong arms wrapped themselves under his arms and he felt himself being hauled to his feet. Fearing it to be more guards, he tried to lash out but could only moan in silent despair as his arms did little more than squirm. His breathing picking up, he saw blackness begin to crawl into his vision. He felt himself go lax and his mind, exhausted by the constant fears and pain, began to nestle down into unconsciousness.

"Silly Boob. Doesn't know. Come back to the house Hansel, Gretel awaits." The voice was calming and, as the fog cleared, familiar. He latched onto it like a drowning man to a raft. Awakening from his daytime dreams, he discovered himself being held up by Book and he flinched at River inches from his face, gazing deeply into his eyes. Without his knowledge they had moved further down the corridor, away from the guard and the cell. They were waiting in front of a locked door that Jayne and Mal were examining closely. He couldn't see the rest of them but the increasing pain and the almost overwhelming tiredness meant he could not bring himself to search. He sunk towards the ground and Book made a strange sound that brought Wash towards him. Wash ducked under his other arm and lifted it carefully, mindful of the hisses of pain coming from the doctor beside him. Mal looked back at him worryingly but turned back to the door, distracting himself with work.

It was a simple door with a relatively simple lock. The problem came from the noise it would generate. They couldn't shoot it and kicking down the door would also generate a bit too much noise for his liking. Looking at the doc, it didn't look they could move in a hurry. The decision was taken from his when Kaylee - who had been stood next to Book, out of Simon's line of sight- came forward with a nervous expression.

"Yes Kaylee?"

She looked at him hesitantly before withdrawing a hairpin from her pocket. She murmured an 'excuse me' and began to jiggle it in the lock. Mal and Jayne looked at each other in disbelief and Mal knelt beside her, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Kaylee I know you want to help but this stuff don't work anywhere exept the movies. I know its taking a mite too-"

The door opened and Mal's mouth closed. Giggling at his expression, she stepped back and moved closer to Simon, who's head was hanging low. She gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead before staring at Mal expectantly.

They all moved through the door, Simon just about managing to walk forward in Wash and Book's arms. It was evident that the boy would be of no more use and Mal resolved to get out there as fast as possible - not that he wanted to linger anyway. If it were just him he would go after Niska but he had his crew to look out for. Through the door was a set of steep stairs. Getting up it took a lot of time and Mal knew that, by now, Niska's widow would be getting suspicious. At the top of the stairs was another corridor, although this one was wider and seemed more office like. Moving silently, they hurried along the corridor, sending glances through the small windows of each door, hoping that it would lead to the right one. Halfway down, Zoe made a humming noise and they came to a stop. Without saying anything they all had a peek through the glass and saw, to their utter astonishment, the interior of Mr. Swallow's office. It was the door he had left through just before the gas flooded into the room. Mal opened the door cautiously, making sure Swallow wasn't hiding in any corners. Sensing it was clear, he opened the door fully and they all made their way in.

It was exactly the same when they had gone in the first time and, despite the risks, Mal went to the desk and began leafing through the papers. They had come here for a job and he damned sure they were gonna leave with one. He found a small job, one that Swallow would probably not notice missing. Then, out of spite, he spat on Swallow's chair. Collectively they moved to the outer door but were stilled at the sound of approaching footsteps. Eyes widening, they moved quickly toward the door leading back into the corridor. As the person drew nearer, they realised, with horror, that Simon, Wash and Book were struggling to get through the narrow doorway. Seeing their predicament, Book forced Wash through and then turned, taking himself and Simon towards the closet. Just as the door closed on them, the front door opened on Swallow, who moved into the room with an air of anxiousness.

He appeared to be mumbling to himself, hands twitching, palms sweating and he paced furiously, never going close to the door in which the crew of Serenity were impatiently waiting on the other side of. Inside the closet, Book was beginning to struggle to keep Simon upright. If the boy collapsed then he was force the closet door open and then the game really would be up. Even worse, he seemed to be regaining his senses and was making small, pained noises that sent bolts of concern and fear through Book's heart. When he opened his mouth again, no doubt to let out some other noise, Book clamped a hand over it unthinkingly. Simon, who was not fully aware of the situation, began to struggle weakly. Book said a silent prayer as he wrapped his arms tightly around the doctor, manoeuvring awkwardly to keep his mouth covered. Simon began to panic even more, terrified that he was back in the arena. With child like ferocity, he bit into the preacher's hand; Book let go with a quiet curse and Simon let out a semi-loud shout.

Zoe, who was beginning to feel like they would never escape, was alarmed by the sounds of a struggle coming from the closet. Worse, it seemed like Swallow had heard it to. His eyes snapped to it and he steeped quickly towards it. Witnessing him reaching for both handles, Zoe reacted instantly, shoving open the door. She moved swiftly and brought the butt of the gun down onto his crown; he gave out a small gasp before collapsing to the ground like a puppet without strings. Unaware of the rest of the crew piling into the room, she opened the door and stared in horror at the sight of Book attempting to silence Simon. She reached in and pulled him out, lowering him carefully to the floor. After a minute without provocation, Simon began to relax and within seconds was aware of his surroundings. Blinking rapidly, he levered himself up on a shaky elbow. Jayne moved carefully towards him and took one arm, gently steering him to his feet. Wash took his other side and together, they made their way out the office.

It was evening time, the sky a blood red and the streets empty. Mal was nervous about their luck but decided he had better things to do than question it. They kept to the sides of the pavement, well aware they were in plain view. As he spotted Serenity in the distance, they abandoned any pretence of stealth and, with Jayne levering a limp Simon over his aching shoulders, they jogged back to their home. Approaching the ramp, they slowed down and heard Simon politely slurring to be let down. Confused, Jayne complied, not wanting the doctor to have another panic attack; he stumbled slightly but managed to remain upright. Simon looked at none of them, eyes focused purely on the ramp laid out before him.

"I wanted to walk out but I couldn't," he said, words slurring so that it was difficult to understand. "So I'm gonna walk into my home."

With that said (or rather, forced out painfully), Simon gingerly made his way up the ramp, stopping every few seconds to rest. Mal knew they had to go quickly but found himself unwilling to interrupt something that was obviously important to Simon. The man had surprised them all throughout their captivity and Mal knew that the boy was now safely listed under the 'crew' category of people on Serenity. Watching him take down the guard at the gate and then in the corridor only proved that he had greatly misjudged Simon. 

By now he had reached the top of the ramp and, smiling contentedly, he collapsed, body making an awful clanking sound as it landed. They all rushed up the ramp. Fearful, Mal picked him up and took him to the infirmary. Shouting to Wash to get them out of the world (which was useless because Wash had already gone to do it), he tore off the rest of Simon's clothing, leaving him in only his boxers. He heard Kaylee sob at the sight.

With nary a part not covered in bruises or blood, Simon's body was a masterpiece of injuries. They had seen his chest in the cell but now, seeing his equally bad legs with an obviously broken right knee, it was a wonder the boy had survived. Himself, Book and Zoe sprung into action, instantly retrieving the needed supplies from Simon's meticulously ordered cabinets. They all had caused to learn some first aid before meeting the young doctor and they worked together in silence as they applied their skills to keep the man on the examination table alive.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for all the kudos and comments, they mean so much to me.


	9. Epilogue

To say Simon was in a bad way would be an understatement. At the monumental task before them, they almost faltered, completely unsure of just how to go about healing the man that lay on the examination table. To their relief, River decided, at that moment, to become more lucid than she had for months and, from her perch in the doorway, began sprouting off instructions about how they should help her brother. There was no time to hesitate, no time to dally in the motions and they hastened to their task, following her every instruction. So it was, focused entirely on the young doctor, that Mal almost missed Wash's panicked voice sounding from the intercom.

"Uh, Captain? Mrs Niska's on the cortex and I, don't quote me here, I think she might be a little annoyed with us."

Mal's head shot up at the mention of the devilish woman and he stared down reluctantly at the man under his hands. Book rested a bloodied hand on his shoulder and gently drew him away, mollifying him with a calm voice ( an oxymoron for the situation), saying : "Go attend to Niska. We've got it covered here, I believe."

Brushing past an anxious Kaylee, Mal hurried up to the Bridge, eager to put an end to their problems. The run through the ship took no time and far too much and, stepping through the door and into the bridge, his eyes instantly became enflamed at the sight of Mrs Niska, glaring with unadulterated hatred through the screen. This monster had caused them so much trouble and his mind flashed back to the doctor fighting to survive in his infirmary, as well as the merc wincing at every step.  Unable to wipe the look of disgust off his face, Mal strode towards the screen and punched the button that would allow him to speak. Deciding that she deserved no restraint, Mal plastered on a fake, cheery voice that belied his true meaning.

"Mrs. Niska, what an absolute surprise to have you-"

"Do not play games with me, _Captain_ Reynolds," She spat his name out as if it were a poison. "It does not suit your character."

"Then what do you want, you dog faced harpie?"

"Your return. After all, you do have a life debt to repay." Mal grimaced at her tone, fury sparking at the implication that they were her playthings.

"I don't think I owe you nothin', looking at the man you done put in my medic bay."

"Do not test me, Captain Reynolds, you will not-"

Her voice came to an abrupt end as Mal turned off the comm screen. Turning to Wash, he barked out an anxious "Make sure they don't reach us." before rushing back down to the infirmary. Standing beside Kaylee - who was doing her best to hold back the sobs- he gazed in wide-eyed disbelief at the state of the infirmary. Blood stained the bed, floor and hands of all involved and there were machines hooked up to the doctor that Mal had never seen before. All around the broken body were the rest of the crew, rushing to and fro in compliance with River's instructions. Jayne, who had initially been helping, was now sat outside the infirmary, staring at it in an unusual state of shock; his injuries had caught up to him and River had forced him to sit and rest.

Simon, the blood now cleansed from him as much as able, looked no better. The bruises contrasted with his bloodless skin and Mal could hear, past the breathing tube that had been forced down his swollen throat, a faint wheezing that alluded to something even worse beneath the surface. Whilst her voice was firm and strong, River was trembling hard, the shock of seeing her brother in such a state taking its toll. Gauze covered him and Mal watched, mind blank, as Zoe and Book started to slow down as less and less wounds needed tending too. Most, it seemed, were superficial - more painful than worrying- and required little tending to, but the ones that had split skin and the broken bones had needed immediate attention. As such, they had been cared for first and now Simon was beginning to stabilise, body relaxing with the sedative that it had been given seconds before his arrival. The bones had been aided by the mender, however Simon would still need a cast for his wrist, just to make sure it didn't become worse. Zoe and Book were wrapping gauze around one of the long cuts across his chest and Mal was astonished at the speed at which his crew had worked.

Drawing back, Mal gently led Kaylee to the seats outside the infirmary. The poor girl was shaking and Mal was seriously tempted to send her to her bunk for a rest. God knew they could all do with one. The three of them said nothing but Mal caught the small squeezing of Kaylee's hand by Jayne. It soothed her partially and she ceased sniffling; soon after she fell asleep. Book made his way towards them, carefully directing River to an empty chair before heading off to the kitchen, no doubt to make drinks. Zoe, finished with the last bit of gauze, ran her hand through the young man's hair before stepping out and moving towards the bridge, no doubt going to seek private comfort from her husband. Nobody said anything because there was nothing to say. They had all experienced it and they all hoped for the same thing; saying it aloud was just wasting air. Mal felt the ship's increased speed come to an end, signified by Wash's exhausted voice sounding through the ship.

"We're in the clear, guys. I repeat, Niska is not coming after us."

There was an audible sigh of relief and Mal allowed himself so finally believe everything would be okay.

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Simon was pretty sure that someone had smacked him with a sledgehammer - _Rude_ \- and was now attempting to smother him. That was the obvious explanation for the pounding pain that encased his body and the groggy, suffocating confusion that controlled his head. The pain grew more intense and he whimpered, silently begging for it to stop. He sank back into the darkness.

He came back to conscious again in a slow, cautious matter that bewildered him. Why was he waking up cautiously and why could he not remember going to sleep? He began to panic, letting out muffled cries. Hands grabbed him and he screamed in terror, flailing wildly. The attack on his nerves was too much and he surrendered himself unwillingly back to unconsciousness.

The next time he awoke it was sudden and uneventful. His eyes shot open (the right more than the left) and he frowned at the familiar white ceiling above him. Strange that he could easily stare at it when normally he only saw it when he groaned in annoyance at something Jayne had done and rolled his eyes. Slowly, an uncomfortable feeling began to sweep through him. It was not painful but it was incredibly hot and he began to pant in a fruitless attempt to cool down. His distress had alerted someone and he tried to lift his head to see who it was. Unable to do so, his weakness frightened him and he started to moan in fear. Seeing a humanoid form above him, he squirmed in an attempt to get away. A cooling hand coming to rest on his fevered brow stopped him instantly and he observed as the form began to become clearer until it revealed itself to be a concerned looking Kaylee. He smiled slightly as the tension fled from him but groaned as the uncomfortable feeling intensified. Kaylee's face became worried and she tried to speak to him but the loud whooshing sound in his head drowned it out. Crying out for help, Simon felt himself being dragged into oblivion.

His eyelids slowly opened, blurry shapes playing out a puppet show in front of him. He let out a small giggle as memories shot forward of the times when Sam would take him out for a day as a reward for doing his best in a fight. Voices came at him as if he were underwater and a clammy hand touching his forehead shook him out of it. Blinking furiously, his vision cleared and he gave a small grin at the sight if his friend's stood around him. Then he frowned. Why were they stood around him? Instantly his mind was flooded with memories of the previous few days  and he started to panic, chest heaving as he tried and failed to push himself from the bed.

"Calm down doc. You don't wanna hurt yourself again, do ya?"

The rough voice of Jayne had a strange calming effect and Simon sagged against the pillow. Slowly moving his eyes, the familiar sight of his infirmary assured him that they were safe. He tried to speak but only ended up coughing. Instantly there were hands pushing him up and someone was holding a cold cup of water to his lips which he sipped at gratefully. Sighing contentedly, his head was returned to the pillow and spoke again, this time in a soft whisper.

"What happened?"

"Don't you remember?" Mal's anxious voice caused him to look about the place strangely.

"I remember everything with..Mrs Niska. Just not after."

"Well Doc," began the Captain cautiously. "After we escaped you passed out and we brought you here. We managed to get away from Niska (at the name Simon gave a small flinch) but we had some troubles with you."

At his confused look, Kaylee gently took his hand and said softly: "You was hurt real Simon. But we took real good care of ya, patched ya right up." He returned her watery smile but looked back to the captain for further explanation. He squeezed Kaylee's hand as Mal started speaking again.

"Those ribs of yours caused us some serious grief and if it weren't for your darling sister here," She waved at him in an innocent child-like way. "Then I doubt we'd be speaking right now. They hit one or two of your vital parts but not straight away - it was about a week after we escaped that that happened."

Now Simon was _really_ confused. "A week?....How long have I been..."

"Two months doc."

Simon eyes turned blank as he processed what he was being told. _Two months!_ Good god, just how bad off had he been? He had no recollection of arriving on Serenity or even leaving their prison. His eyes welled up as thoughts on what he had missed and how close he had been to leaving River, Kaylee as well as the rest of the of them.

"Hey doc! Doc! You with us?"

Jayne's gruff voice brought him back to Earth (or was that Serenity?) and his head swung wildly as he took in the sight of the infirmary, reminding himself that he was safe and, more importantly, alive.

"Yeah...Yeah, I think I am. Wait! Jayne you were hurt, how-"

"I'm fine doc, don't worry."

They all smiled at him and his eyes began to drift closed. As the last dregs of his consciousness danced away from him, he heard Mal ushering them all out.

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Weeks later, and Simon was seriously debating whether or not dying on that table would have been better. Being once again short of money, Mal had been on the cortex and had found a list of back street brawls that offered money to the victor. Being Mal, he believed he had found the perfect solution and, being Simon, he found it ridiculous. The rest of the crew sat at varying degrees of acceptance. Mal, Jayne and, strangely, Wash was all for him doing it whilst Kaylee and Inara were reluctant and Zoe and Book sat somewhere in the middle. So far, River had refused to comment.  They had been 'discussing' it all morning, ever since Mal had announced they would be heading back to Trinculo VII.

"This is insanity! I've only just got back on my feet an-"

"Exactly doc! That means you can fight-"

"That is the most skewed logic I have ever heard-"

"But it works and you can easily kick their-"

"You can kiss my ass!"

They all stared at Simon in silence, stunned by the uncharacteristic words.

"Boob."

River's quiet voice broke the tension and they all chuckled. Simon rubbed the back of his neck and huffed, mind whirring through pros and cons. His body was fully healed and perfectly capable of fighting but it was his mind, the tool with which he delivered his hardest punch, that held him back. Ever since their escape, he had found himself _scared_ , terrified at the very thought of facing off against other men. It was irrational in his medicinal mind and he had anguished over it for too many hours. The perverted fights he had taken part in had ruined his perception. Unnoticed, River swept up behind him and whispered almost silently into his ear: "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure."

"Very well then, Captain. If you insist."

Mal smiled gleefully and rubbed his hands together.

Hours later, dodging another hook that just missed his chin, Simon regretted ever getting on Serenity, never mind agreeing to fight. He was on his fourth and final fight of the night and he could feel the exhaustion beginning to take hold. His arms had begun to sag, though through force of will alone he refused to drop them. When his opponent stumbled predictably from the full force punch, Simon stepped forth half a step, grabbed the right side of the man's head and held it in place as he swung his elbow around to make contact. Pushing him away, Simon stepped back, getting a second wind whilst his opponent stood in a loose stance that Simon had exploited more than once. The man charged, taking his elbow back to perform a fairly obvious haymaker. Simon blocked with the outer arm and replied with a swift gut punch. The man jabbed, blinded by pain, and Simon slapped it down with a palm heel block, attacking the man's cheek with a cross; seizing the opportunity, he cupped his hands and slammed them over the bulkier guy's ears. Discombobulated, he lashed out with a low right hook, aiming for Simon's liver. Using an elbow block, he parried the hit away and swung his elbow up, crashing it into the bottom jaw. He instantly followed up with a simple jab to the same spot - he felt it fracture under his clenched fingers. Lengthening the distance between the legs, Simon sunk down a few inches and deployed a brutally hard straight punch to the ribs, again feeling a bone crack under his attack. The man was, by now, fully out of it and Simon would rather not injure him more, however the rules dictated that he had to fully beat his opponent to win.  Shooting out with the back arm, he hit the solar plexus, winding the man and forcing him to bend over slightly. Springing back up, Simon sent his knee flying into his opponents chest. When he stumbled back, leaning backwards at a dangerous angle, Simon leapt forward with a jump frontkick - a move taught to him by a visiting fight master. The man flew back, colliding with the wooden walls of the arena. He fell to the floor, boneless. Simon had won.

As the crowd cheered, Simon spotted the crew of Serenity gaping in shock at him - even Wash, who had seen him fight before. He chuckled at their expressions before returning his attention to the Unofficial Official, who had raised Simon's arm in a sign of victory. As the crowd continued to roar in exultation, he staggered back into the make-shift changing room to clean up. Emerging moments later to find the crew stood around the doorway, giving him praises and hearty slaps on the back (or near fatal, in the case of Jayne) until he broke away to collect his winnings. Pushing through the crowd to the booker, he took his earnings with a modest smile and nod before making his outside to escape all the noise and congratulations. They all started to make their way back to their home. Kaylee wrapped her arm around his and he gave her a thankful smile that grew when she returned it with eagerness. His head rolled back on his shoulders and he gazed at the blue sky above him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the series is at its end! Worry not though, dear readers, for I intend to publish a further AU that is related to this one. It shall be coming out shortly and will once again be primarily focused on Simon.  
> If you want to have a character of your making feature, message me with their details.  
> Thank you all very much, I hope you've enjoyed it.


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